When Parvon and Triwathon finally arrived at the supper hall, they found it far less full than on the previous evening, the absence of some thirty former Walkers making the room seem almost spacious for the numbers gathered. As Parvon and Triwathon were looking round to seek a table, an elf approached and inclined her head.

'I am housekeeper here, Master and Captain. There is a table kept for you, with wine waiting, and the meal will come to you…'

'Mistress Gathrodes, is it not?' Parvon smiled, bowing his head briefly to her. 'Our thanks for your welcome, and your care of us. The room is very pleasant.'

'If you were to stay, of course, we would arrange more spacious quarters. Now, here is your table. Our prince is dining in the hall tonight, but nobody waits for his arrival.' She lowered her voice, and Parvon heard a mixture of uncertainty and pride in her tone. 'He is not formal, like other lords are.'

'To his detriment,' Parvon said, once Gathrodes had left. 'It is fine for a prince of wood elves to be a friend to all, but in his dealings with the lords of Men, he may be misinterpreted. I wonder what our king would make of his son's style of leadership…?'

Triwathon gave his husband an anxious look, even though he smiled.

'You would not say anything? No last letters home before we sail…?'

'I don't see that doing so would endear me to either our king or our prince! Ah, well, there is still a little time; I may be able to install in his scribes, if not in our prince, the need to be at least a little remote. But really, it is not my problem.' He glanced at his husband, pouring wine for them both. 'And certainly, not ours. Forgive me, I will cease talking shop.'

'While I am glad for the thought, my beloved crow, I doubt it will be easy for you,' Triw said, nodding over Parvon's shoulder. 'There are two elves in what I assume they think are formal robes, and they are approaching and looking at you. They look less like crows, however, and more like… well, see for yourself…!'

Daehel and Saelchanorion caught Parvon's eye and paused in their approach to wave and wait to be invited across. From somewhere they had acquired long coats, sleeveless, that they wore over tunics and leggings. The hems of the outer garments were asymmetrical, the fabric a motley of greens, browns and greys, although here and there a line of stitching suggested the uneven appearance was deliberate.

While Parvon dithered about whether to invite them across, or to go over and make plain he, and they, were off-duty, Triwathon had stood in his seat, smiled, and waved to the two elves.

'Will you share the meal with us, friends?' he asked, smiling swiftly at Parvon's suppressed, laughing groan. 'My husband has been full of his work with you.'

'Oh, that would be lovely!' Daehel surged across, easing into a seat beside Parvon without a second thought. 'Master Parvon was full of you, also, all morning,' she added, 'and although he forgot to tell us your name, it feels as if we are all friends already!'

'Have you so?' Triw asked with a lifted brow and a grin.

'Not really,' Parvon said, scanning back over his afternoon. 'I did speak of my husband, fëa-mate, of being lately married…'

'But that is only because, Master Parvon, you were keen to stress that the offices were only for formal business. And besides, I talked to Legolas, who laughed, and told me to ask Govon, and so I know your husband is called Triwathon, and he is a hero, and very handsome, although that is not something that Govon said, but that I can see for mys…'

'Daehel,' Saelchanorion said. 'Stop babbling. But it is true, Commander Triwathon, we did enquire about you, wondering who might be capable of turning so experienced an advisor away from duty and towards a married life.'

'Not to mention who could turn a renowned warrior of the forest away from Eryn Lasgalen and towards the Undying Lands…'

Triwathon lifted his wine glass and drank, indicating his fëa-mate.

'He is the hands on my hair, the breath of my lungs, the beat of my heart,' he said. 'And I am his. Together we are more.'

Parvon lifted his own glass in response. 'The blood in my veins, the hand on my heartstrings, the joy in my song.'

They would have stayed lost in each other's words, but at that moment Legolas sprang onto a table at the top of the hall and addressed the room.

'Good evening, mellyn-nin!' he began. 'As you know, I do not often interrupt your meals you twice in one day! But I wish for you to know that this evening, the garrison will be the resting place for the starlight gemstone accorded to the former Lord and Hero of Gondolin, the Balrog-Slayer, the one-time Seneschal of Imladris. When our good hunters and guard have finished their memories, the stone will come back here for us to speak into it. And now, enjoy your meals!'

'So this is not usual?' Parvon asked. 'Morning briefings, evening updates?'

'No… but it's a very good idea, Master Parvon! You should…' Daehel must have seen something daunting in Parvon's gaze, for she faltered and rephrased. 'You should suggest to us the best way to encourage the habit with him.'

'Just tell him that his appearance was so popular that you think it would be a very good practice to get into; he need not stay to dine, as long as he speaks to the populace before the serving starts.'

'Thank you, Master Parvon.'

The food came round, and it was a relief to eat, and talk about the meal, and not about how to run a King's Office. The scribes – now dubbed Advisor Daehel and Underscribe Saelchanorion – accepted the distinction with good grace, but Daehel still had many questions, curious, friendly enquiries as to how their lives had played out, where they had met, what they liked in each other. Not all questions were answered, and at one point, towards the end of the meal when they were drinking rather than eating, Parvon laughed and looked down with a blush, shaking his head.

'Love has not found you yet, Daehel!' Triwathon said, laughingly, supporting his fëa-mate. 'Else you would know, without asking.'

'Forgive me, I do not mean to be impertinent… but things I do not know are just so interesting…'

Parvon smiled.

'You and your friend, to me you are interesting. That you are so enthusiastic, while he is… less so… which is by no means a fault, rather a good characteristic to own, although to be keen is never a bad thing…'

Triw laughed.

'What my husband means, Daehel, is that you are lively, and obviously have a keen sense of fun, which is less in keeping with a King's Elf, but perhaps is well enough for a Prince's Elf… while Saelchanorion is far more like to Parvon himself…'

'Then I am flattered,' Saelchanorion murmured, while Parvon shook his head.

'I am not entirely sure it is something to live up to,' he said. 'But between you and Daehel, you should manage the prince very well.'

'Ah, my husband is to be managed now, is he?' Govon had approached from behind Parvon's seat, and now slid into a free place a little further along the bench. 'It is about time, if you ask me! No, really, it is all very well to live the free life of wood-elves in the colony, but we have to deal with Men and we cannot be so free with them; they do not understand, and I worry we may be laying up trouble for the future. But if you can establish a proper system, that will help. It should not take you more than a year or so, Parvon…?'

'Perhaps it does take such a length of time for a system of records to become properly established. Unfortunately, I am not going to be here beyond the sailing of the ship…'

'Nor I,' Triwathon put in. 'Should you have been wondering, Govon.'

'Well, my thanks for clearing that up.' Govon grinned, not at all abashed. 'Now, the reason I am come, Parvon, 'Las wants to know if you'd like to escort the gemstone over to the barracks… and your face is full of refusal, have I offended?'

'You haven't, yet,' Parvon said. 'But I should point out that my responsibilities towards the stone ceased once I passed it over to the prince. You should discuss with him anything concerning its placing and the manner in which it ought to be treated.'

'Well, I did, and he said, why don't we ask Parvon and Triwathon to provide an honour-guard for it? And I said…'

'And you said, surely, my prince, you could not possibly expect me to answer that, but if you gave it a moment's thought, you would see that Parvon and Triwathon have had the blessed thing in their care for long enough? Or words to that effect, at least?'

'Um, Parvon… no, I didn't… and... really…?'

Parvon gestured with a smile at Saelchanorion and Daehel.

'But here are two representatives from the Office of His Highness, Prince Legolas in Ithilien. Perhaps you could request their presence as an honour guard, since our prince seems to wish for one? Or you and he, together, perhaps, could carry it across…?'

'The Office of who? Where?'

'Legolas' new administrative department,' Parvon said. 'Although I hope at least that you already know Advisor Daehel and Underscribe Saelchanorion from the breakfast briefings, since it would be unfair to steal the toast from those whose names you do not know.'

Catching Triw's eye, he smiled and rose to his feet.

'You should discuss matters such as this with them, although they are off duty until morning, officially speaking. Now, if you will excuse us, we have plans tonight. I hope you have a pleasant evening.'

He held his hand slightly out from his body, not too obviously, but hoping Triw would notice. Sure enough, within a heartbeat, there were warm fingers entwining with his.

'These plans of ours, Parvon…'

'Well, your plan is to visit the barracks, and mine is to bear you company, since I am invited, too; you see, I have not forgotten. I just… the gemstone has moved on, it is no longer my responsibility. I don't mind it, I just don't want to take care of it any longer.'

'I'm glad you've not changed your mind about coming with me,' Triw said, squeezing his fingers gently. 'It is not private, Cýrion said, everyone is welcome, so our friends amongst the escort may well be there; Magorion, Canadion, Thiriston…'

'All right, then.' Parvon surprised himself with how easy it was to agree, to actively not mind spending more time remembering the Hero of Gondolin. 'No, that's a good point; if your hunters are unsure of how to talk to me, well, I am sure I can find someone to talk to. It will be less of a duty, since I am not in charge of the gemstone, and not responsible for an honour guard, I think. And the observances with the hunters up the river… it was different. Pleasant, somehow. Nice.'

'Nice.'

'Yes. And… if we hurry, we can get there before Govon does.'

If Commander Govon and Prince Legolas were surprised to see Parvon and Triwathon amongst the elves who were gathered in the garrison common room to greet the gemstone, they managed not to show it. Daehel, however, smiled and waved until quelled by Parvon's eyebrow. He made a mental note to add to the instruction manual he was compiling: King's Elves do not wave at people while on duty. It would fit very nicely under the entry that said King's Elves do not shorten each other's names on duty…

This document did not, yet, exist in actually, but mentally arranging and composing entries kept his mind busy while Saelchanorion and Daehel placed the gemstone on the stand awaiting it. Legolas explained whence the stone had come and why, and the Prince's advisor and underscribe introduced themselves. Finally, the escort party left, and Parvon had just begun to relax when Govon re-appeared. The commander went to the table where the stone had been set, and took a seat there.

'I remember him,' he said, and proceeded to give a lively account of some of Glorfindel's misadventures during his first visit to the Old Palace. Memory made several of the elves present grin, or laugh, and if there was a wistfulness to Triwathon's smile, then at least he was able to rise and cross to the table near the stone and continue Govon's account.

'Yes, I remember the contest that was held in the king's own training rooms. Thiriston won, by some distance and a jug and a half…' This was interrupted by laughter, Thiriston himself laughing loudest and longest. The big elf rose to bow, then, and took a place at the table, taking up the memories with his own tales.

Triwathon came back to Parvon's side with a soft, relaxed sigh.

'It is strange, but… this feels better. This is how he should be remembered, these are the stories that the bards and minstrels do not sing. This suits him better; he will like it. I suppose… when we get to Valinor… and his time is done and he leaves Mandos… we could tell him how the memories went?'

'If you'd like to do that, Triw, of course.' Parvon gave his husband a little nudge. 'And I will tell Lord Ecthelion of the state of the floor in the King's private practice ground after the contest… I believe it was months before Thranduil could bring himself to enter the chamber again!'

And so it went as the common room filled with hunters and guards finished with duty, or eating, several elves at a time gathering at the table to talk their memories to each other, the stone being present, but not really necessary, somehow, almost as if it was treated like another person, perhaps even Glorfindel himself…

Briefly there was nobody at the table, and Triwathon pulled Parvon to his feet.

'I'm not done,' he said, his eyes glittering with fierce, bright tears. 'There is more to say, and I want you with me when I say it.'

'Triw…?'

'No, it will be well. This morning, Cýrion said I needed to remember, so that I could turn away from him and towards you, and to have you stand with me as I do that, it is important. And who knows? Perhaps there are things you need to say, too.'

Bemused, but willing, Parvon sat on the bench as Triw reached across to drift his fingers over the top of the rough yellow diamond, his other hand still retaining his touch on Parvon's.

'I remember you,' Triwathon said, addressing the stone directly. 'I remember how you saved my life, once. You probably don't realise, I didn't say, I don't think, and… well. Battle Under the Trees, I'd been stuck with a burning pike or suchlike in my ribs. Badly hurt I lay, Lord Námo came to my dreams. He said I could go with him, and be free, or I could return to the world, and to the long pain of healing. But I wasn't done, and I… I wanted to see you once more. Silly, isn't it? Because of you, I lived. So, dear iphant that you were to me once, you saved my life without knowing it.' There were tears in his eyes now, and Parvon looked on, stunned and almost horrified, but Triw's hand still gripped his. 'So. You probably knew Parvon, met him, spoke to him… I don't know if you knew him for the one who loved me, but… you helped me become worthy of him.'

'Oh, now, Triw…' Parvon began softly, wanting to say he was always worthy. But Triwathon continued over him.

'You saved my life once, but Parvon… Parvon saved me twice. First, when I was grieving and heartsick and someone came and tried to… he fought him off and saved me, supporting me afterwards. And then when I was so close to fading, it was Parvon brought me back. So don't worry about me, I am safe, I am loved, I am protected. As I love and will protect and keep safe him. You have your Ecthelion, after all, and I… I have the love of my life with me.' He squeezed Parvon's hand, smiled a little shakily. 'That's all. I am done.'

'I'm not,' Parvon said, smiling back, amazed at himself. 'No, I find I am not done yet, either. My lord of Gondolin,' he began, giving a small and formal bow to the gemstone. 'I am grateful to you, for the encouragement you gave my husband, for helping him to grow in confidence. And while I am also grateful to you, on behalf of the elves around the New Palace, for your aid and your sacrifice, I must say, my lord, it was incredibly unkind of you to come all that way just to die in poor Triw's arms! It brought back so much pain to him, and I was there, I had to see it, and it was bitter to me that none could console him. But you would have been proud at the manner in which he conducted himself after. We are married, now, he and I. I will cherish him and protect him always, so you may devote yourself to your Lord of the Fountains with a clear conscience and a brave heart.'

He rose and bowed, smiling down at Triwathon.

'I think I have said all I wished to say,' he told him.

'Did you… really… just tell him he was…unkind?'

'It has rankled with me, love, to think how much he hurt you by dying like that. Now I've told his gemstone, I've got it out of my heart, and it will trouble me no more.'

'Parvon, I really don't think he meant to, you know!' But Triwathon was almost laughing now, at last. 'Thank you, though. It means much to me, that you stood at my side and listened, and that you would take him to task! Look, there is wine on the table, there, and cups – shall we drink to the end of remembering?'